#uh yes my discord is the same but

[ephcmeral]

sips nervously

[bomberqueen17]

tone indicators

I reblogged this post without adding any commentary bc queue and not a lot of computer time lately but like okay here's the thing about tone indicators:

they're yet another in-group set of coded speech. like an inside joke, or a meme, or a conlang. if you are in a group that uses them, they're great and perfectly comprehensible.

but if you don't happen to have come from inside a group that uses them, they are exactly as exclusionary as any other heavy jargon or inside joke or acronym. I mean have you ever listened to soldiers talk? The US Army communicates in heavily jargon-ified speech, liberally laden with acronyms, so much so that it's a self-referential joke to make up obscene or deliberately-obfuscated ones to slip into official reports since the sorts of people who'd kick up a fuss about obscene language won't understand them.

It is exactly the same thing. Except that's exclusionary on purpose, and tone indicators are exclusionary in effect but tout themselves as inclusionary.

So if I, an outsider to this, am reading along, and after a sentence, there's a / and then between one and three letters, that is not enough information for me to use to look it up.

This is absolutely inaccessible if you are not alreadhy in the group that uses it.

I wouldn't mind if the people who used them were just like 'oh ha sorry jargon, i'll try to explain if it's not clear, sorry i forget you guys don't know them' just like any other inside joke or meme or whatever.

But I was in a discussion with someone on a Discord and when I was puzzled about them including these weird slash-acronyms after their statements they were like oh how nice for you that you're not neurodivergent and don't need to use these.

Uh no. The opposite actually. I'm the kind of neurodivergent that needs context. I handle being excluded from conversations very poorly. And that's where I get pissed off, that people seem to be holding these up as the new be-all end-all of Finally Solving The Problem Of Ambiguous Tones In Social Interaction. The hell you are, kids. They're just another layer, and I'd say the worst one yet, out of many many many attempts to solve this exact problem. They are fundamentally inaccessible. Don't mistake the fact that you learned them (somewhere, in some context inaccessible to me) for them actually being universal.

Considered against the many different solutions that have been offered since text-only speech was invented, tone indicators stack up as among the very least-accessible of the lot, since they contain so little context in and of themselves-- if a key is not provided then they're totally inaccessible, and are exceptionally difficult for non-native English speakers, and in general require so much memorization or cross-referencing as to be prohibitively hostile to outsiders.

And that's fine, if what your'e doing is just meant for talking to your friends. But don't come into my conversations and berate me for not having memorized whatever incomprehensible set of acronyms you've newly-decided are the new universal truth. And what drives me the most insane is how many of these acronyms someone has now decided to assign a whole new meaning to are acronyms that are well-known and already existed and are in heavy use. So if you try to look them up guess what you get! is it gonna be the newly-created version or the one that's been in use for fifty to seventy-five years??

For one, P.O.S. has had a specific meaning in written and spoken English for a really damn long time and if you call me a piece of shit in the actual language I speak I am absolutely not going to interpret your conlang as having intended something nice. (YES REALLY THEY'RE USING THAT ONE TRY TO GUESS WHAT IT MEANS. NO. NO! I know. Fuck! That's wild. Absolutely the fuck not.)

[dandylovesturtles]

discord likes to enable me

———

There’s a familiar clack-step-clack-step-clack-step, and Donnie un-shrimps himself from over his keyboard before he has to hear a lecture about posture.

“Heeey, hermano,” says Leo, and Donnie swivels his chair. He’s leaning on his crutches, an easy smile on his face that Donnie isn’t sure to trust. “You busy?”

“Yes, actually, I am. In fact, I have a prioritized list.” Which is ever growing, mostly because he keeps thinking of things to add.

An alien invasion that nearly kills your entire family is great for creativity and motivation.

“Yeah, I know.” Leo leans more heavily on the crutch so he can rub the back of his head. “Kind of a rhetorical question.”

“If you know then why are you bothering me?”

Leo’s smile falls a bit, and he shifts back and forth for a second. Donnie feels an itch grow under his skin the longer he spends not working, and he has to bite back the urge to snap at him to come out with it.

“Actually, don’t worry about it,” says Leo finally, taking a hobbling step back. “You’ve got enough to do, so… I’ll let you get back to it.”

And Donnie almost lets it go there, gets back to his work and lets Leo go back to whatever he was doing, but…

Something about the whole exchange does not sit right with him. Leo must want something, so why won’t he just tell him? It makes the same itch prickle in his hands, like there’s something here for him to fix if Leo will just let him know.

“You might as well tell me what you need,” he says, turning to his computer and pulling up his list. “I’ll assess it and prioritize.”

“No, no, that’s okay. It’s nothing,” Leo insists.

“Nardo.” Donnie levels his best stare at him. “What is it?”

Leo stops, hesitates again, and then slowly clack-steps his way back to Donnie’s desk. “Alright… but when I tell you, you can’t laugh.”

Donnie laughs once, preemptively. “Well, I can’t promise that. What if it’s funny?”

“Sheesh. You’re the king of sensitivity, aren’t you?” Leo rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t turn tail and bolt. He rocks back and forth one more time, then clears his throat.

“I, uh… I want… more lighting for my room.”

Donnie narrows his eyes. “What’s wrong with the lighting you already have?”

“I mean, it’s fine when I’m awake. I was just thinking, you know…” Leo clears his throat. “I could just have, like… some dimmer lights for nighttime. Just.. just enough that I can see, if I… need to get up in the middle of the night, or… something wakes me up, or whatever.”

Oh, thinks Donnie. This isn’t funny.

Of course, Leo asking him to build a nightlight would have been downright hilarious even just two months ago. But that was before the invasion.

That was before Donnie was woken up in the middle of the night by an alert from Leo’s heart monitor. That was before he found Leo huddled in a corner of the medbay, shielding his head with his arms and begging not to be hurt anymore. That was before they all agreed to leave the lights on, even when - especially when - Leo was sleeping, so he wouldn’t wake up in the dark.

He says he’s fine now. Donnie wonders why he believed that, because Leo said he was fine back then, too.

He turns back to his computer and adds a new entry to his list, under High Priority.

“What kind of lights do you want?” he asks. He doesn’t call it a “nightlight” because Leo would probably tell him to forget about it again.

“Uh, well, they have to be cool.” Leo rolls his eyes up like he’s thinking, even though Donnie imagines he’s rehearsed this in his head. “And not too bright - I don’t want them to wake up anyone else.”

He doesn’t want it to look anything like a nightlight, and he doesn’t want them to be especially noticeable. Donnie can work with that. Compared to everything else he has to do, this is a pretty simple challenge.

“I think I can work something out,” he says. “Just give me a couple days to find materials.”

“No rush,” says Leo quickly. “Whenever you get to it is fine.”

“Yes, yes,” Donnie says. “I’m not going to drop everything for a miscellaneous lighting project.”

He casually moves the lights up a few spots.

“Yeah, sure,” says Leo, already backpedaling out of the room. “I’ll leave you to your nerd stuff. And you better not stay hunched over your computer all day!”

“Scoff!” yells Donnie after him. He got the posture lecture after all.

———

It takes him a little over a week to finish Leo’s lights - longer than he wanted, but it took time to gather the materials.

He steps through the curtain to find Leo waiting for him, tapping his foot. Donnie had unceremoniously kicked him out hours ago with no explanation, but he still thinks the look he’s getting is a bit overdramatic.

“Are you going to tell me what you’re doing now?” Leo asks, and Donnie grins wide, ever the showman.

“Of course, dear brother.” He grabs the curtain in one hand. “I finished your lights, and I have to say I really outdid myself this time.”

Leo’s irate expression turns shocked. “Wait, seriously? Already?”

“Well, it took longer than I wanted, but yes, I am done. I think you are going to be pleased with the results.”

So saying, he throws the curtain aside with a flourish and reveals the room to Leo.

Leo’s jaw drops, and he pushes past Donnie to go inside, spinning around to get a good look. “Dude,” he says, a grin growing that stretches ear to ear.

He likes it. Donnie feels a rush of relief and satisfaction, and he grins just as wide as his brother. “Yes, I know, I’m amazing.”

“Dude,” Leo repeats. “It looks rad as hell.”

Donnie has to concur with that one, of course. He spent all day installing tasteful and aesthetic track lighting, currently glowing a soft blue. It’s running along the aisle through the middle of Leo’s bedroom, along with a line across the whole car at bar height, and more lines ribbing the ceiling. He even lined out spots on the wall for Leo’s posters, now custom framed in glittering lights.

It looks as rad as Leo said, but the most important thing of all is that now every corner of Leo’s room is lit, leaving nowhere for enemies to hide or threatening shadows to lurk. He will feel safe here, even if he wakes up from a nightmare. At least, Donnie hopes so.

He hands Leo a remote, pointing out buttons as he talks. “I’ve given you a few different options. You can turn the lights on, or set them on a timer, or use this setting to make them motion activated. And here you can change the colors, though of course I have preprogrammed in your signature. Oh, and here…” He presses a button, and the track lights begin to pulsate. “You can set it to different patterns if you’d like.”

“Oh man.” Leo grins, immediately playing with the buttons. “You seriously killed it - this is so cool, Dee.”

“Yes, yes, as I said, I am amaz- oof.”

He’s cut off by Leo grabbing him in a hug, arms squeezed tight around Donnie’s battleshell.

“Thanks,” he says, his voice surprisingly serious. “I really, really love it. Two reallys.”

Donnie sighs, but hugs him back. “I just hope it helps.”

“It will.” Leo steps back, his grin lopsided but real. “Anyway, it looks like a nightclub in here, bet I could throw some great parties.”

Donnie smirks. “Invite me and I’ll waive my fee.”

“Extortion,” says Leo, a laugh in his tone. “I should have seen that coming.”

“Yes you should have. How long have we lived together?”

“Forever.” Leo gives him a light shove with his shoulder. “It’s alright sometimes though.”

“That’s because I’m amazing, as I have said.”

Leo snorts. “Yeah, yeah,” he says, but his smile is real and genuine, and Donnie feels warm to his core.

Another thing crossed off his list.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 9

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: We made it to Friday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The watch ticks on in your hand, counting down the seconds you spend trapped beneath the bed. Cowardice, embarrassment, shock. Pick one. You finally break your paralysis and crawl out from beneath he frame, listening cautiously as you drag yourself across the floor inch by inch.

You stand, glancing furtively around the room. You clutch the watch and turn, hovering it just above the night table. That's too obvious. It wouldn't just appear out of nowhere. You need to come up with a story but you don't know if any lie you tell could be believed. It seems, he even doubts you when you are honest.

You drop your hand to your side and near the door, turning your ear out to listen to house beyond. You grip the door handle tight and lift the door on its hinges as you open it. You slip out, easing the handle down then up to keep the mechanism from clicking.

You peer down the hall as you hear Mr. Laufeyson in his study, the shuffling and scuffing of drawers being pulled in and out. 

There are two paths forward; put the watch somewhere and let him find it or return it to him and feign ignorance. You don't know which is better, both entail a lie you aren't equipped to tell.

You pad down the hall, sidling against the wall and into the library. You could pretend you were there all along, say you found the watch earlier. He would think you busy as he was in the shower. That you were in a world, and a room, separate from him.

You go to the desk and set the watch down as you sit. It takes you a moment to get your mind to focus and you open the lid of the laptop. You hit the power button and tap your fingers on the wood as you wait for it to start up. As the screen lights up, the door from the study opens. You don't have time to hide the watch. The path forward is paved.

Mr. Laufeyson sweeps in without pretense, as he often does. For as much as he resented his brother for the very same, he is comfortable in just barging in. You sit up and look at him over the top of the computer. He crosses his arms as his eyes peruse the space.

"You've not seen--" He begins, his voice trailing off as he faces you. Like a hound, his eyes fall instinctively to the watch. You don't acknowledge it.

You type the password in to unlock the computer. He comes forward and leans forward, spreading his fingers wide over the other edge of the desk. He hums.

"Where did you find that?" He dips his head down, gesturing to the left of your laptop.

"Uh," you let your eyes wander over, "oh!" You look at him with surprise, "I was cleaning and it was... by the sofa. I meant to return it but I haven't seen you, Mr. Laufeyson."

He squints and shifts his weight. He pushes himself straight and smooths his shirt. He is without his usual jacket. He takes measured steps around the desk and comes to stand right beside you. Too close. You feel the heat radiating from, smell the same scent from the room cloying from his figure.

"The sofa?" He questions as he snatches up the watch. He examines it, as if he suspects it is a dupe. "Why, I should be grateful, yes? You've found the very thing I was in search of."

"Er, I guess," you shrug and drag your fingers around the touchpad listlessly. "Uh, excuse me," you stand, the chair scraping loudly behind you, "I forgot my bag downstairs, Mr. Laufeyson."

"Hvitsten," he wags the watch at you, staying firmly in place, "a Norwegian brand," he explains, "this is the North Sea model. Backed with Lapis Lazuli," he turns the face out, "nice, isn't it?"

"Um, sure, Mr. Laufeyson, I... I don't know much about watches," you eke out.

"But you can see it is a fine watch, yes?"

You take a step back and he takes one forward as your leg hits the edge of the chair. You gulp and stare at the watch hanging over two of his long fingers, "I like the colour--"

"If you were to guess, what do you think this piece costs?"

You blink and shake your head. You don't understand why he's asking. Can't he just thank you and take the watch?

"I don't know, Mr. Laufeyson," you croak.

"A pawn shop might offer you a few hundred, but that would be a con," he scoffs and turns the watch over, bringing his left wrist up to hook it in place. "This particular model retails for over two grand. I expect that's more than your rent," he tuts, "a fair amount for anyone but I pay for quality."

"I... it is really pretty," you offer.

"Oh I am aware," he smirks, "naturally, it catches the eye. One can hardly miss it."

You frown. Is he accusing you? You don't say a word. You expect whatever you say wouldn't change his mind.

"So, what I mean to say is I am very grateful that you've found this," he tugs his cuff straight, "for it would be a great loss indeed."

He drops his arm and stays where he is. He does not retreat and despite the urge, you do not either.

"I must be mistaken to think Thursdays you were to clean the second floor only," he remarks, "though it may be a trick of fate that you did the first as well."

"Er, I... had a few minutes-- Mr. Laufeyson, my ledger is in my bag--"

"In time," he crosses his arms and leans back on a heel. You dare to glance up as his eyes scan you from head to toe, "these..." He dips his head to allude to your attire, "are new?"

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson, I thought-- no more jeans," you press your palms to the wool pants.

"Mmm," his hum is less than delighted, "still, lacking."

You wilt. You really tried and it's still not good enough. He unfolds his arms and you stand dumbly, frozen, as he reaches to pick a thread from your collar. It unravels and he lets it dangle before you.

"As I said, quality is worth the extra cost," he harrumphs and lets the thread fall, "I did provide you a rather generous signing bonus but perhaps your first check will provide adequate compensation."

You watch the thread fall and back up to bend and retrieve it. He watches you and you close your hand around the string.

"I'll throw this out," you assure him, "and grab my bag--"

"I did not dismiss you," he insists.

"I am coming back--"

"You do grow bold, yes?"

"Sorry, Mr. Laufeyson, I didn't mean--"

"If you would let me speak, I might be able to tell you what I had in mind when I entered," he rebukes, "I have a delivery expected at two. I would need you to sign for it. Can I trust that simple task in your hands?"

You chew your lip and bow your head. He inhales and backs away slowly, "very well, go." He flicks his fingers at you dismissively, "grab your things and get to work.”

🧹

There's a pungent stench as you enter the house. The TV blares loudly from the living room as the stale waft of tobacco lingers in the air. But more, there's something far more putrid. 

You peek into the living room. It's later than usual. Your father's head is tipped back as he snores upright. His oxygen tube is taught across his nose and the tank pulled against his leg. As you turn on a light, you notice the dark stain across the front of his pants. Oh no, that's what that smell is.

He gurgles, frightening you. At first, you think he's choking. He coughs and spits into his ash tray. He waves his hand in front of his face.

"What're you waking me up for?" He snarls.

"I was just checking on you--"

He groggily shifts back and forth, shaking his head as he gets his bearings. He looks down and you see him tense. He sits up and reaches for the remote.

"Um, did you need any help--"

"Piss off," he snips, "I was yelling for you earlier. Where were you?"

"I... was working. I told you--"

"Working? What the fuck is work? You? Pfft," he scoffs as he flicks through the channels.

"It's okay, dad, I'll grab you some new pants--"

"Shut up!" He barks. He's obviously embarrassed. You are too. Worse, your guilt sears in your stomach. You should've been there.

"Dad, it's not--"

"You're a dumb bitch, you know that? Shoulda let me fucking sleep," he grits out, "like you shoulda let me die. Now I'm hear sitting in my own piss with no fucking smokes."

He throws the empty pack at you and you wince. You pick it up as your eyes tinge hotly.

"Maybe... maybe I could look into getting a nurse. The doctor said--"

"I can take care of my fucking self!"

You snap your mouth shut and clasp the package between your hands.

"I'm only trying to help--"

"What? By keeping me in this hellhole? Eh? It's fucking torture. Why the fuck would you that?"

"Dad," you squeak, "I love you--"

"Proves how fucking stupid you are," he snorts.

You stand in scalded silence. You're just trying to help. That's all you've ever done and it's never been good enough.

"If you don't got smokes, go the fuck away," he hisses.

You obey and leave him, tossing the empty pack in the garbage. You head upstairs with heavy steps and yawn at your door. You drop your bag on the bed and go back to close the door. You lean on it as your tears begin to flow.

You can't do anything right. No matter what you do. It's like you're trying to get your head above water in the middle of a storm. You slide down to the floor and hang your head over your bent arms.

You know you can't stay home. As prickly as Mr. Laufeyson can be, he pays you well and he isn't entirely unkind. He didn't have to pay you a bonus but he did. He didn't have to hire you at all. Besides all that, he can at least admit when you've done something well.

It isn't him you can't say no to, it's the money. Not just to pay off the hospital but to keep the house running. For yourself as much as for your father.

And you can't leave your dad alone to fend for himself. He obviously can't, not anymore and he doesn't want your help. You might love him but there's only so much you can do.

You lift your head and inhale, sniffling roughly as you wipe your nose. Tomorrow, you'll go to the hospital and ask about home nurses. You'll have to find room in the budget.

🧹

You're out of breath as you get on the bus. You had everything timed out so you could get to Mr. Laufeyson's on time. Still, your usual bus went out of service and you had to get a transfer onto a different route. The change throws your entire day off and adds to the disparity of your week.

You get off a bit further from Mr. Laufeyson's as this bus doesn't go as far as the other. You run down the street, sweating in the black polyester pants and peach coloured button-up. You scramble to get out the phone and put in the proper code.

Your first try is with the one from the day before. On your second try, you clatter through and scurry down the path. The backdoor proves just as troublesome in your frantic rush.

You get inside and leave your shoes by the door. No cleaning, or at least, you don't plan on it. You near the bottom of the staircase, breathless and puffing, clinging onto the straps of your leather bag.

"You are late," Mr. Laufeyson strides out of the den.

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson, I'm sor-ry," you gulp through repressed pants, "the bus--"

"I don't care about the bus. It is your responsibility to be here on time, regardless of the method."

"I understand--"

"I am starting to question if you do," he rebukes.

"Mr. Laufeyson, it won't happen again."

"I know it won't or you will not have another chance to be late," he warns, "you were not here to prepare the tea for my guest. I had to do it myself."

"Guest? I... didn't know--"

"I didn't ask if you knew. If you'd been here on time, you would have," he chides, "it seems, in my efforts, I forgot to fetch the biscuits with the teapot so you will go and do so."

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson," you nod, "I'm so sorry--"

"Sorry, yes, I'm sure you are," he lifts his chin and turns on his heel, "you certainly will be..."

At first, you're not sure you've heard the words. That he would say something so callous. You back away, heart hammering as you try to convince yourself it wasn't real.

You go back down the hall and shove your bag in the back closet. You veer into the kitchen and search the cupboards; biscuits, biscuits, biscuits...

You find an unopened tin and bring it down onto the counter. You peel away the plastic and take out a sleek black serving plate. You use some tongs to lay out the biscuits neatly, an array of each type. You'd done similar for Corrissa with the hors d'oevres. You take the plate and carefully make your way into the hall, trying not to disturb the arrangement.

You enter with your head down, hoping not to disturb Mr. Laufeyson as his deep voice carries to the high ceilings. The curtains are open and the windows shine brightly. You peak up as you approach him and his guest.

She doesn't notice you until you're a foot away. You shy away from her gaze, her pupils a greenish blue and her golden hair silver along the temples. You place the plate on the round table by her elbow, just between the chair and the end of the sofa where she sits.

"And who is this?" She preens curiously.

"Mother, you needn't worry--"

"You hired a full-time maid?" She wonders.

"Mmm," he hums, "suppose she would be a house manager. She handles all the little details I don't have time for."

"Oh, like Evelyn."

"I suppose," Laufeyson agrees dryly.

You back away and look up again. Is that really his mother? She's beautiful.

"Please, darling, join us," she trills.

You blanch and look at Mr. Laufeyson as a line squiggles between his brows. He looks between you and his mother. Before he can protest she is on her feet.

"Please, I do love to get to know the staff," she approaches, "I'm Frigga. I hope you've heard a lot about me. His mother, of course. I only came to see that he's well... he never has time to call. Perhaps you might change that, hm?"

You glance over at Laufeyson again, frightened. Not just by this over friendly woman but by him. You don't know if you should say you have work and refuse or if that would be rude. She is his mother and you wouldn't want to upset.

"Mother, she does have her work--"

"Tosh, it can wait," she puts her hand on your arm and ushers you to the couch, "have some biscuits, darling, you look faint."

Laufeyson huffs but does not speak. He hooks one leg over the other and places his chin on his knuckles. He glares at you and you look to your lap.

You've done the wrong thing again but you're not sure there is a right option in this circumstance.

"These are my favourites," Frigga declares as she holds out a braided biscuit with large grains of sugar sprinkled over it. "Don't tell me these are the same I gifted you for the holiday," she tisks.

"I haven't much of a sweet tooth."

"I do forget, Thor tends to fancy the sugar," she chitters and returns her attention to you, "forgive me, I didn't get your name."

Your mouth is dry. You stare at the golden rings on her fingers. You clear your throat and utter your name, sealing your misdeed.

[hkruu]

“ME & YOU?” — hkr

\\ soft yan streamer bf , mod!user , silly fic for y'all , obsessive , implied stalking in the past , implied doxxing //

Akira likes streaming with you.

You both started with meeting each other through an rpg game, agreeing to become his mod, becoming friends, and then meeting in real life and falling in love. It was a normal cliche love story about two gamers falling for each other in your point of view, what about Akira's point of view?

It remains a secret.

You always wondered how he knew all of your favorite things right off the bat, how he knew your awkward gestures, your hobbies and all of that. Maybe he was just really attentive to the things you did..

Akira wasn't a stalker.

He's sweet, he always takes care of you, putting your wants over his. Both of you communicate when something goes wrong, you balance everything. It was a perfect and a normal relationship.

At least that's what you thought.

hkruu: what r we playing today !!

Not_venti: wsg chattttttt

xX_AMI_Xx: r u playing with ur s/o?

yurisghs: hi akiraaaa [akira_pat]

fatgirlsummer: when's the continuation of Until Then ?? ^^

"Until Then? Uh, I mean, probably next week." Akira's eyes glanced over the chat box, watching as many viewers greeted him with good afternoons and nights. "My significant other?" He raised his right eyebrow curiously, reading aloud one of the questions.

"Honestly, I'm not sure if they'll be able to make it on time.." Akira leaned back on his gaming chair, stretching a little.

killlove_i: nauur why [akira_sob]

Not_venti: skibidi will make it on time trust.

tsukasaaaa: I hope they're well ><

cutiepie101: COOP PKEASE !!!

"I'm probably just gonna farm today, not unless Lisa invites me again." He smiles towards the camera, loading up HSR. "I'm not pulling for uh, rappa? The new character I mean, I forgot their name."

llyyyn: lol same

yurisghs: is she good? Ion look at leaks

Not_venti: I'm pulling:))

lamanbrug_01: goodluck to those pulling!!

sdkwohryuu: I want Sunday [akira_sob]

"I want Sunday too.. physically.." Akira pouts, eventually breaking into a silly smile. The rest of the stream going fine as usual, farming here, doing the new quest, companion quest, pulling for Fei Xaio, you know the rest.

A good hour and a half passes and suddenly there's a;

Ding!

"Hey chat, guess who's home!" Akira suddenly brightened, focusing on the game even more as he patiently waited for the same sentence he always heard every single day. Of course, he'd never get tired of it, never.

"I'm home!" A muffled voice could be heard in the background.

Not_venti: I TOKD U THEYD MAKE IT OJ TIME

xX_AMI_Xx: I js woke up whay happened

yurisghs: caught my lonely ass smiling

yumiwgeo: can't relate @yurisighs

Not_venti: LMAO

"You'll find someone yurisghs!" He snickered, quickly exiting out of HSR and logging onto Genshin instead, the familiar bright screen never failing to blind him.

nnsigma [MOD]: hi chat

Not_venti: hi skibidi

yurisghs: halooo

lynnuoo: wsg

yumiwgeo: [akira_wave]

tsukasaaaa: [akira_wave]

"sup babe, yes I ate, I drank water, I showered, I cooked lunch and I did the laundry." Akira's smirk was evident, quickly doing his commissions in-game. If you're wondering he mains Neuvilette.

nnsigma [MOD]: ok good [akira_pat]

nnsigma [MOD]: let's play dti instead ong

Not_venti: real

Guihimoo: [akira_nod]

"No."

About the said ‘Akira is probably just really attentive’ towards you.. let's expand a little bit on that.

The first time you met each other at a nearby Cafe, you were surprised. The pictures of Akira on discord didn't do justice to what he looks like in real life, this guy was walking around as if he just came out of a red carpet..

Aside from that, his personality was still the same as online. Teasing, snarky, he's still got that attitude, and of course playful — he was the fun type you'd want to be friends with. But, he really was your type.

You couldn't resist glancing towards his neck from time to time, hell — you couldn't even make eye contact without being mentally flustered. "Is something wrong?" He'd ask, but you'd immediately shake your head and go along with what he's saying.

I mean, Akira didn't know your address, why are you asking why he knew the way back to your home? He used to live here.

"W-woah.. we have more in common than I thought!" You beamed while Akira smiled softly, it looks like his hard work did pay off. All that late night searching, perfecting and practicing — it was worth it in the very end because you were finally here.

Akira could see you, touch you, feel you, make you feel things you've never felt — ah, how he wishes he could go back in time just to see your horrified expression when you almost got doxxed by someone anonymous.

Of course, he was the one to comfort you at the time, the way you opened up to him about everything, finally letting him know of your feelings.. It was worth every little thing he had worked hard for.

It didn't matter if he had a small or huge fan base what mattered was you being right beside him, experiencing hardships and hope. Akira could do anything, he could try his best — he's not perfect, he has many flaws he'll admit that.

But..

It was worth it if it was you.

Akira was glad that the world hasn't ended yet. Not that it would happen any time soon but — he'd want to be next to you even if it was a life or death situation.

Extras:

"I'm rating you 1 star for the effort. You suck." Akira tapped on the tablet aggressively, while you squirmed right next to him, trying to desperately get your phone case back on — fumbling quite badly.

"I'm rating you 1 star too!"

"You're just mad I'm a trend setter."

[punkeccentricenigma]

Rise!Boys accidentally confess their love to Reader.

Relationship status: Romantic

Reader prounouns: They/Them

TW: Slight angst for Raph's part, Some grammatical errors because english is not my first language.

Author's note: Just enjoy lol.

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆. .⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆.

Leonardo

◇ Ever since Leo realized his feelings, his casual demeanor towards [Y.N] had turned into almost aggressively flirting.

◇ Despite not wanting to rush into confessing his feelings, he was practically a simp for that person..

◇ But he also teased them often, of course, not on a seriously offensive level. Just light pokes and prods.

◇ I'm sure he bragged to anyone about his not-yet relationship with [Y.N].

"Oh, and I recently won a unicorn plushie for them, and they were really delighted! WE'RE MEANT TO BE TOGETHER!"

"Pepino, get the hell out of here."

◇ Just as Donatello had enough of his (non-)twin, he now wanted to dig a hole to hell and throw him in there to finally get some rest.

◇ Anyway, the accidental confession happened one night when neither he nor [Y.N] could sleep.

◇ They were sending each other various memes through Discord in bulk. This boosted his confidence even more, leading to him typing 'I love you.'

◇ Of course, he hadn't sent it yet; his mind was suddenly filled with not-so-good thoughts. What if they don't feel the same? What if they laugh at him?? Or something worse?!

◇ Despite his persona, the boy was full of insecurities, from his looks to his personality, but with them... he felt good about himself.

◇ But would such a confession be too simple? The boy decided to wait at least one day before confessing his love.

◇ But fate said 'nuh-uh,' and his phone fell on Leo's face, causing panic. Due to his carelessness, he held the device wrong, resulting in the accidental sending of the ill-fated message.

"No, no, no, NO!" His voice trembled as he tried to delete the message immediately. Unfortunately, the app froze to his disadvantage. "Damn it!"

◇ When he managed to reopen the app, there was a new message.

◇ "... You are not joking, right?"

◇ This night would last even longer than a turtle had anticipated.

Raphael

◇ I think it happened during the attack on their home by Shredder. Absolute chaos, a storm of emotions, the perfect situation for an imperfect love confession.

◇ "Raph, have you lost your mind?!" [Y.N] began, full of outrage. "Why didn't you let me stay? Splinter and Draxum need help!"

The turtle furrowed his brow bones, looking down at the shorter person with regret. "It was the only way, I'm sure they'll handle it."

"And what if they don't? What if they needed our help right now?"

◇ No matter how advanced [Y.N]'s combat skills were, Raphael was even more opposed to the idea.

◇ "Nothing will happen to them!" Raphael raised his voice, as if trying to convince not only the teenager but himself. "And stop arguing with me; I'm the leader here, and I make the decisions!"

"Damn it, I don't understand you! I could handle it, and you would have more time to plan; I'm not needed here!!"

◇ Just a reminder, everyone present was watching this argument.

◇ "Yes, you are!"

"No, I'm not!"

"You are! I don't want to lose you like Gram Gram; I love you too much!" His angry red face suddenly turned shocked. Oh, oh. Did he really just say that??

◇ His dark eyes met the teenage counterpart's. Their whole face was red, and their determination to sacrifice themself slowly faded from their eyes.

"... Fine," [Y.N] muttered and sat down in the seat next to Michelangelo.

◇ When all this chaos is over, they'll have to talk, this time more calmly.

Donatello

◇ Donnie has a need to be as organized as possible, so before suggesting anything, he has to plan everything out and make sure that any confession of feelings will go perfectly.

◇ Of course, he had a large folder with potential scenarios that could happen before and after the confession. It had a bit of a vibe from his previous reincarnation, but much less scary and obsessive - he simply felt strong discomfort without preparation.

◇ Leo likes to tease him about it, by the way.

◇ Anyway, there was one situation the boy didn't anticipate. One night, he had been working on another invention all night, aimed at stealing another battery from the Purple Dragons, and in the morning, he fell asleep at his desk, or rather, he was half-unconscious.

◇ "Dee, come to bed." Raphael's voice echoed through the lab, gently shaking the sleepy Soft-shell's naked shoulder. In response, he got some sluggish syllables and a hiss. "You can't sit here like this; it's not healthy." "And sitting here all night is unhealthy enough," he added quietly.

"Get lost..." That's all the turtle understood. Raph rolled his eyes and moved away from his brother a bit.

"I'm not going to struggle; I'm sleep-deprived myself," the red-loving enthusiast said, picking up his phone.

◇ And so [Y.N] appeared in the lair, as the ultimate weapon.

◇ "Donnie! Get up! Lie down in bed!" The teenager themself was not well-rested, considering the early hour, but they tried not to sound irritated. Donnie mumbled something again and straightened up in his chair.

"Raphaello, leave me alone," Donnie started, putting his hands on the keyboard. Apparently, he had no intention of opening his eyes. "I still need to make a few changes to the code..."

"Wait, do you think I'm Raph??" [Y.N] asked in surprise, pointing at themself. Did their voice really sound so manly and deep?? Since when??

"And you're talking in the third person again; I've told you that it's no longer fashionable." Donnie tried not to hit his head against the desk even a little, wanting to at least be somewhat awake. The human wanted to say something, correct him, but gave up with a certain idea in their mind.

◇ they had noticed strange aspects of their friend's behavior lately. He was more open to their, often grabbing their hand or hugging their despite his usual aversion to it, he made various devices for their that made quite an impression on their... there had to be something to it!

◇ "Hey, buddy," the human leaned lazily against the desk, trying their best to mimic the speech style of the oldest of the brothers. "Do you, you know, have something going on with our best, most wonderful human friend??"

"You mean April?" Ouch, that hurt, even though [Y.N] felt the same way. "She's our almost-sister, Raph, yuck."

◇ "Oh, no! [Y.N], I meant [Y.N]!" The teenager corrected themself, slightly annoyed. It was weird.

"What about them? I already told you." No! Not like that!

"Ahahah, you know I have a bad memory when I'm not stressed!"

"Mh..." Pause. Did they say something wrong? Donatello is overly smart; he should figure out what's wrong! How will they explain this? "Everything's fine; my plan will be initiated in half a year at the latest." Plan? What plan??

"Plan...?"

"Rendezvous plan, duh," Donnie replied, resting his head on his hand. "I know you advised against it, but I can't do it differently. I need everything to be tip-top before I confess my feelings to them."

◇ "..."

◇ "..."

◇ "Raph...?"

◇ [Y.N] remained silent, trying to control their sudden heartbeat and their face turning as red as a strawberry.

Michelangelo

◇ Playing the role of Dr. Delicate Touch, the boy knew perfectly well what he felt and wanted to confess his love, but the natural fear of rejection also got to him.

◇ He wanted to think this all through. He wanted to do it as smoothly and charmingly as possible, but not in a way that made it seem like he didn't care. He didn't want to throw such important words to the wind!

◇ His artist's soul played a significant role here. Every time he felt great, he had to sketch something related to love.

◇ Just woke up from a fantastic dream? He had to quickly grab his sketchbook and sketch [Y.N] in a floral wreath.

◇ He was on patrol and saw their favorite cafe? He started sketching the teenager drinking coffee in the nearby sand with his finger, taking a picture of it as a keepsake.

◇ Spending quality time with [Y.N]? He convinced them to start painting each other with his favorite markers, and under the pretext of light fun, he drew orange hearts on their cheeks.

◇ It was all fun until there was an 'accident' during one of the previously mentioned activities.

◇ So, Mikey and [Y.N] were in his new room after Shredder's attack, and he needed help with some unique decoration.

◇ "Wait, isn't that a neon banner from the nearby store??" The teenager asked, pointing at the mentioned thing, peeking out from behind the boy.

"I neither confirm nor deny it!" Mikey laughed, shrugging his shoulders. "You have to admit it fits perfectly."

"Mhm, but I doubt you'll fall asleep with this," [Y.N] said skeptically, picking up one of the cardboard boxes that contained a surplus of notebook-like items. "Where does this go?"

"Oh! Just put it next to the cabinet; I'll put them in the drawers in a sec."

The human nodded, and as they took a few more steps, they tripped over the cables lying on the floor. they fell to the ground with a squeak, dropping the box less than half a meter in front of them.

"Are you okay??" The orange-loving enthusiast quickly ran to his friend, helping them get up as they groaned in pain.

"Yeah, I think so..." Their voice trailed off, surprising Mikey, who followed their gaze.

◇ His pupils immediately narrowed upon seeing an open sketchbook with many drawings and sketches of [Y.N], with a predominant theme of love.

"Mikey...?"

"IT'S NOTHING!" The teenager shouted, hastily picking up the sketchbook from the floor and pressing it against his plastron.

◇ Their faces both turned equally red with excessive thinking.

◇ Oops.

[delta-pavonis]

Ficlet: Naga's Boon

For @amielot (Apparently? Like, I started this AGES ago and only have vague recollections of the server conversation that started it... Could I search the Discord? Yes. Am I lazy? Also yes.)

Dreamling AU || rated G before the break, rated E after the break (cw: nagas have hemipenes (two penises, kinda) like all snakes and lizards, but not the more, uh, horrific looking options if you Google it, monsterfucker Hob Gadling, description of non-human genitalia, Hob is a bit of a size queen and a cumslut and we love that for him, Dream has to be restrained during sex for Plot Reasons™️, naga Dream wearing a leather chest harness might be one of the hottest images I have come up with recently ngl)

----------------

"You return." His voice rumbles out of the depths. It may have been more than a lifetime ago, but Hob remembers well His voice.

Hob's immediate vicinity is brightly lit thanks to the high quality of the candle in his lantern and yet the way in front of him still looks like an endless abyss of starless midnight. "Well. Yes. You said that you wanted to know what it was like. That we should meet again on this day in one hundred years. I will keep my end of the bargain, if it provides me this gift."

The susurration of scales along damp stone is amplified by the cave's mouth as He approaches. "You name it a gift? So you still want to live?"

"Oh yes." He nods vigorously enough to cause the lantern hanging from the end of the tall staff he carries to swing.

The light sloshes wildly back and forth between the rock walls, causing a small grouping of bats to hiss and squeak before they take to the air. Hob ducks as they flitter overhead and when he turns back to the inside of the cave He is there.

For a moment it is as if a torso hovers in the darkness, His bone-pale skin almost as reflective as a cat's eyes. He embodies an ideal that only the greatest artists and students of the human form could conceive of... except where hips should dip to thighs and groin, is shadow and fire.

Human-appearing skin gives way to wide horizontal belly scales, each bright flame yellow in the middle fading to ember orange then to ruby red at the edges. Everywhere else, serpentine coils of which Hob sees no end, is the shining black of obsidian.

Hob holds the lantern-staff aside as the ancient naga approaches to within arms reach. He has to look up to meet those hypnotizing eyes, blue-black, just as he remembered. "What must I do," he pauses, breathless, "to keep this boon?"

"You are more than passing brave, Robert Gadling, to return to my lair, apparent promise of renewed immortality or no. What have you been doing for the last hundred years?" He lowers his torso as he speaks, until their faces are more of a height.

"Oh, same as before, soldiering mainly. Bit of banditry now and-wait" Hob's brain catches up with the conversation. "Did you say apparent promise?"

The naga's smirk, the barest curl of rose-pink lips, makes Hob shiver. "Well caught." He shakes his head, long black hair falling over one shoulder, and if Hob did not know any better he would think the ancient creature amused. "Your so-called boon is not subject to my whims nor those of any other. You earned it fairly and so it will not fade until you will it so."

Earned it fairly. What Hob had done was save the life of another naga from a pitchfork and torch-bearing mob. She was dark of skin, hair, and scale, yet this one had called her 'sister.'

"Oh, so I..."

"May leave, if you'd rather."

Hob pauses, bites his lip as he considers his options. This creature must have knowledge beyond his wildest imaginings, stories of things forgotten by most of those alive today. He wants to know more. "And if I'd rather not?" The naga's head shifts backwards on his neck, surprise widening his eyes; that was clearly not an answer he considered possible. "I do not know when you last went and saw the outside world, but I could tell you my story..." He hesitates before adding, "If you would be willing to tell me a bit of yours?"

The naga rushes towards Hob, stopping only a hair's breadth away, mouth open and forked tongue flickering out all around Hob's face, brushing against his forehead and cheeks and chin. Hob is so close that the naga's fangs are visible in his open mouth even though they remain retracted, pulled backwards by thin membranes that glint almost silver in the light.

The tongue disappears into a scowling face, brow drawn in confusion. "You do not smell of lies."

"That would likely be because I am not lying." For a moment Hob worries he has overstepped, been too casual, but then a glimmer of mirth softens the naga's expression.

He nods his head once, accepting the answer. "Then tell me, what has changed in your world since I saw you last?"

So that was as far as I got with the intro. Then there was this bit of gratuitous pornography...

"Hob," he hisses, "I do not think I can..."

"Love," the human soothes, reaching out to grab the naga's neck and pull him up for a kiss. "You can. I know you can hold yourself still. The only way to restrain your smooth body any more than it already is would be to loop hooks into the flesh beneath your scales. And I refuse." Dream whimpers, eyes closed as he trembles. "Just think of the reward, darling. Imagine one of your cocks buried within me, the other gripped in my hands. Think of it."

Hob tries to let some of his own breathless excitement bleed through. Because after seven hundred years of meeting with this gorgeous, awe-inspiring, witty, fascinating creature - not to mention eight decades of being lovers - finally, finally he will have what he has wanted since year two hundred and one: Dream screaming his pleasure as he empties inside him. And Hob is goddamned excited.

Little did Hob know when he first desired this that he would get to have Dream come on him at the same time.

Dream, while equally enthusiastic, is terrified that he will hurt Hob. And he isn't wrong: the majority of his body is a long tube of extremely strong muscle that thrashes around when he is near and at his climax. Hob has watched as Dream has whipped his tail around fast enough to gouge cuts eight inches deep through dragon hide, so he doesn't begrudge Dream's hesitation.

If Hob were another naga their snake-bodies would be intertwined and therefore kept from wild movements by the other's strength. But he is not. So they have had to come up with other options.

Dream's body, both human and snake, is being held down by an elaborate series of straps and chains. On his snake end, which they have found runs a full forty-seven feet in length, are a dozen foot-wide leather collars that tighten around the body if pulled. Each are anchored via chains to iron rings buried deep into the stone of the cave floor. His human form lays on a mattress, but is also held down with a harness that loops around his shoulders and chest and has a very short chain to the floor. He cannot fully sit up, but he can stretch enough to touch Hob as he is riding Dream.

Hob is perched on his lover's pelvis, along the transition from skin to scales. Behind him, three belly scales back, far too low relative to the jut of what appear to be hips to be human anatomy, protrude two slick, gleaming cocks.

Their proportions are also too exaggerated to be human, with a more pointed head that transitions relatively smoothly into the shaft. The shaft is widest at just below its middle, making it shaped almost like a flower bud. At the base of each, right before they connect into a 'Y' shape, are a series of gentle ridges that make Hob groan just looking at them. No part is wider than Dream's hand, so there is no doubt that Hob's body can accommodate.

Hob slides backwards until the two cocks press up against his ass and nudge into his lower back.

While they have never done this specific sexual act before, Hob has sat between the two dicks and rutted back and forth until they both came. It absolutely drenches Hob in cum, both front and back, and Dream takes great pleasure in covering his lover as much as possible.

"You ready, love?" Hob asks as he reaches behind to grab one of the two pricks.

He beams down at Dream, maneuvering so that he sits in the space between the twitching, leaking members. He takes a moment to rock forward, his own cock sliding against Dream's, making them both groan. Then he rises up onto his knees and starts guiding one of Dream's impossible cocks into his body.

Dream stretches and gets one hand on Hob's thigh. "As much as I can be." His voice is steadier than it was before.

Oh fuck, it is better than Hob thought possible, that long gentle taper just gliding into him until it is stretching him open, stretching and oh oh oh!

"Yes! Hob!" Dream snaps his body up as much as he is able, chains clinking as he reaches their limits, popping his prick into Hob to the base.

Hob lets out this long, drawn out wanton noise, more than a moan, not quite a howl; he is so full he almost wants to cry with how good it is.

When he looks down, Dream's chest is heaving, shining with sweat, his mouth open and slack, his lids heavy over dark eyes. He looks like he wants to devour Hob and in that moment Hob probably would let him, if only it kept this glorious prick buried within him for a minute longer.

Hob runs his hands down the cock arcing up between his legs. It twitches into his touch and presses Hob's cock and bollocks against his belly and oh yeah, that's gonna be fantastic. He rolls his hips forward once, rutting himself into those ridges at the base of one of Dream's pricks and lifting him off the other.

Dream hisses, fingers gripping bruises into Hob's thigh, and his hips snap up to fully sheathe himself again inside Hob, making them both cry out.

Hob wants to tell his lover how good it is, but he can't figure out words, so he keeps stroking both his hands up and down the cock in front of him, rolling his hips and fucking himself in time with it, and Dream sobs through it all, but his body eventually picks up the rhythm.

Hob's cum gets smeared all over Dream's cock under his hands and it is only a few more thrusts before Dream peaks, a shriek of unintelligible sibilants, stripes of searing hot white covering Hob's shoulders and neck and the side of his face. At the same time the cock inside him pulses over and over and Hob can feel the spend leaking out of him and down his legs and across Dream's belly.

If Hob had his way this would last forever, but he can already tell he is close, Dream so fucking deep inside him it hits every pleasure spot Hob knew he had and then some. He can hear the heavy chains behind him rattle and groan as Dream's long body thrashes in its confines, attempting to twist and roll. It makes every third or fourth thrust become a wild buck that hits harder than the others and Hob's vision whites out for a moment each time.

The bucking gets more frequent as Dream reaches his own peak, and Hob has already been holding himself back, so once every thrust is one of those uninhibited snaps of Dream's body, he lets himself go. "Dream! I'm gonna oh yessss!"

When he collapses forward Dream's cocks are flexible enough to go with him, still everted and full, and isn't that just lovely. They will retract eventually, out of Hob and all the way back into Dream's body until they invert internally. Perhaps Dream will let Hob fuck into his inverted pricks for a second round.

But that will be later. For now Hob feels their breathing sync as he drifts into sleep.

[arandomnerd810]

personal TADC character analysis

uh warning this is long lol

autism time let’s go (/not in a negative way i have autism) stretches hands * I’ll go in order of the character episodes cause why not we have it (see below) i’ll put periods but it will just be to make it more readable not to be intimidating lolll

btw im completely open to interpretations of characters changing throughout the series this is just for fun

Gooseworx has said this series is mostly focused on characters rather than lore, and from what we know, i truly believe it. I don’t think any of the current characters will abstract because of this.

(I put a version of this in the glitch inn discord theory thing so if you recognize it that’s why)

Pomni: we already know her deal pretty well, as we’ve already had her episode. uuuh if anyone’s going to do something important lore wise it will probably be her as she’s the main character but can’t rlly tell what that may be. to review ep 2 though she’s an outcast who has felt like she was nothing and is a logical thinker.

(Kinger and Zooble will there their focus episode but i put it in order of who was revealed to be the ep 3 focus first)

Zooble: From their design (the entire motif is it can be changed at any time) and the fact she doesn’t know his gender, we’re dealing with some pretty clear identity issues. Friends with Gangle seems cool excited for next episode to learn more about them!

Kinger: One of the most interesting characters so far. I feel like we will get to learn more about abstraction though Queenie, the X-ed out door that looks like a female version of him. If i had to guess, since Gooseworx said they were not siblings, they were a couple. (Also judging by his age and the fact he could have been married, he may have been a father yeowch imagine that) I can see the common theory of the insect collection implying he was a coder before getting trapped, but i could also see him being some random guy who just likes bugs lol. He seems like really sweet guy behind his constant anxiety and disassociating.

 Gangle: (My faveorite human rn) Her mask design can be interpreted in a lot of ways but it’s clear that the happy mask isn’t her real personality. My take on it rn is she doesn’t wana bother people with her stuff so she pretends she’s happy? She seems easily embarrassed and def has self esteem lower than the last circle of hell. What’s interesting though is she’s willing to stand up for herself from time to time, even though she’s easily shot down after.

Ragatha: Waaaay too nice for her own good. Also probably has self esteem lower than the last circle of hell and bases her self worth of others approval.  Though she’s been here the second longest, she seems a lot more normal than Kinger. Makes me question how long apart their introductions have been. Probably copes via escapism.

Jax: I can see why everyone is very interested in him cause me too. He seems like the only fourth wall breaky guy (unless you count Caine cause of his intro at the pilot)which is rlly interesting how did he figure out more than everyone else? what’s with the keys? i have no clue lmao. He’s an asshole who makes the best of his situation by torturing everyone else. At the end of the day though, he’s a human and was sad at kaufmo’s abstraction but he probably isolates himself so it would probably be the same for anyone

but waAitTt a moment

that’s 6 humans but Gooseworx said we would look into 7 (cause of the “other” part) in her twitter post talking about the character focus timeline so we know our fav character won’t be left behind ⁉️⁉️⁉️ I hear you not asking well my dear hypothetical person, who better to fill the 7th character than Caine?

Why you did not ask? Too bad i’m info dumping. First, he’s the main antagonist and alongside Pomni, the commercial face (or lack their of haha teeth and eye joke) of the series. he’s an important character and loved by many. (and hated equally if not more aside the point lmaooo)

Yes, gooseworx can lie about stuff but I think she’s smarter than to lead this heavy into Caine depth/ angst territory if there wasn’t going to be anything On top of that, the entire purpose of the timeline post was so we know our faveorite characters weren’t getting treated poorly. It’s unlike for a character based show to suddenly drop such a major character for some random other guy were introduced to later or smth. i mean cmon there’s three episodes after all the humans at least one of them has to be focused on my boy.

Caine: I believe he really does have good intentions and wants to help but just does not understand people at all. This means he’s like an anxiety disorder; it wants to help, solves some issues but creates 500 more. Judging by the Tumblr post, loneliness may play a big part in what’s to come? I’ve always had a feeling his front was extremely fake and his VA saying “breaks keyfable” (an act that pretends it’s true) supports that theory. Episode two gives some insecurity vibes when Zooble didn’t want to go on the adventure. I find that pretty interesting cause he didn’t care at all if people went on the gloink adventure or not. Maybe he puts some adventures over others and he could have been proud of the candy adventure cause more time and care was put into it and he made a new AI. Why did he blue screen? i feel like he could have some blockages on what he can say built in though im not sure why he was blocked then if he even was. one of the biggest questions i have ab him currently tbh. what’s with him grabbing his cane like that in ep 2? if i had to guess simply be nervous = that? His VA also knows some depth to him even though his focus episode is likely going to be at least one of the last 3 episodes, which they have not gotten to recording yet. You know what this means Caine angst solidarity club? Sad Caine so more fan angst appetizers before the main cannon feast let’s friccin go‼️‼️⁉️⁉️

(try to guess my fav impossible /j)

[nonsensical-pixels]

Dear Sims 2 Community,

Or really, just about anyone who does the stuff this post mentions...

Forewarning: this is a LONG post.

For the last few years I've just kinda bottled this rant inside of me. But I've just gotten tired of trying to be patient.

Yes, Abhijeet is a real name--and quite a famous one. Yes, there are millions of people out there with Ng or Wong as a last name. Yes, Pong is a real name too.

Abhijeet - 'victorious' or 'conqueror' in Sanskrit

Ng/Huang (黄）- 'yellow', to 'fall through'

Pong - 'noble'

The same goes for almost every first and last name in The Sims 2's name generator. They're not made-up names just because they don't fit your image of a Western suburbia. In fact, they are taken from the developers' names. Just because they're Asian names, or non-white names, or 'spelt weirdly', doesn't mean that they're 'fake' or whatever or 'weird'.

I am tired of going on Reddit or Discord or whatever and seeing people making fun of names like 'Ng' and suggesting that the developers were lazy to put that in the name generator. Uh, no? 'Ng' is a very common surname for Chinese people--not just in Asia, but in the West too. So either you are being grossly ignorant, or you just cannot believe that Asians exist out there.

As a South-East Asian, I am tired of this whole ‘not-white, not real' logic exercised in this community. Not everyone who plays this game is from the West. As a South-East Asian, it's quite infuriating to see people make fun of names like 'Pong' because they can't be bothered to at least Google the name's meaning.

What I love about The Sims 2 is how diverse the names that townies generate with are. The developers could have left in your average American names and left it at that. Instead, they used their own names, and it's just proof of how diverse the developer team was. If you look at the names townies can generate with, it's actually insane. There are so many unique, rare names on there that people are just... making fun of, because they have this belief that The Sims 2 is an 'American' game and as a result everything should match what your perfect American suburb would have in it.

As if there isn't a whole neighborhood inspired by Shakespearean lore in there where a child has the name Bottom--or whatever.

Maybe I am overreacting a bit. But it makes me so infuriated when people make fun of things they don't fully understand. Without even Googling it. Every other post on r/sims2 is 'Is Abhijeet a real name??' Uh, yeah, a single Google search could've told you that.

In short, I am just tired of the Sims community constantly misrepresenting people like me or acting like Asians in the game are unusual.

It's not just names, too. It's also in appearance, languages, etc. So I've compiled a small list of misconceptions you may want to avoid, because why not, too many people never seem to get them.

Not all Asians are Chinese. I've used Indian and Chinese surnames as examples because they're closest to my understanding (being part Indian, part Chinese) but I see an insane amount of people acting like Indians aren't from Asia or all Asians are Chinese. Same goes for the people who act like all Asians are Japanese. Mary-Sue doesn't have to be Chinese, she could be Japanese, Korean, or not even Asian at all. I am really tired of people acting like my HC that she is only part-Asian is weird.

Not all Asians have light skin. It's not even a regional/ethnicity thing, where Indians are also Asian and a lot have brown skin, etc. There seems to be this idea in a lot of communities that all Chinese must have ultra white skin, black hair, and brown eyes. I have never met a Chinese person outside of actual China who looks like they'd blend in with the snow. South-East Asia is not only chock-full of Chinese people whose ancestors left China decades ago, it's also smack-dab on the Equator. If you can go about your daily activities and stay pale, I am in absolute awe of you.

Not all Asians have 'slint-eyes'. I find this grossly racist and very ignorant, because even that term makes my skin crawl. Yes, some of us have our eyes slanted towards the center of our face. That does not mean that all of us do or that the Korean girl you're making must look like her eyes are sideways.

Not all Asians speak Asian. I have no idea who thinks that Asia, a continent that contains most of the world's population, consists of people who all speak the same language. Asian isn't even a language. You may be thinking of Chinese--which, although having one singular writing system (okay, it has a modern one and a traditional one I can't even read) actually consists of dozens of dialects. Most Mainlanders speak Mandarin, but around my area there are so many people who speak Cantonese, Hokkien, Hakka, whatever. This concept that all people from a continent must be able to understand each other is stupid when you look at the European continent.

I apologise if I've misrepresented anyone on this list--if you are a person and you speak the language Asian, do let me know you exist--but for the love of all things holy, please remember that Asians and non-Western people exist. Some of them made this very game that you play every day, and they'd be baffled, I think, to know that you believe Wong is a made-up name.

I don't mind people who use mods to change up the names used to generate townies and make them more suit their gameplay--if you want a themed neighborhood or one that's all-'American', go ahead. But if you're gonna make fun of someone's actual name because you can't fathom that not everyone has first name John last name Smith, please do educate yourself.

Thank you for reading this very long, very on-the-spot rant, have a pleasant day, and please don't be afraid to ask, comment, or give feedback on this post :]

[thrumbolt]

Thrum friend. Would you recommend the ACOTAR books? I see people in a Discord book club mention thinking about reading them and I'm like. 🤔. Obviously you have at least taken to certain characters but everything I see on timeline seems to be. Kind of in spite of the actual books 🤔

Not me finding this ask wedged between several hate anons from this fandom lmao

ANYWAY mzyraj, my friend, my long term mutual, how best to put this....

STAY AWAY FROM THESE BOOKS! (Yes read them? Maybe?)

Long answer: The first book is a 3/5 retelling of beauty and the beast mashed up with the ballad of tam lin. It's nothing special but it's a relatively entertaining, easy read. The first half moves slow and the second half gets more interesting. It has grown on me when I revisited it after finishing the whole series so for me it's a 4/5 now. But I'm biased.

When you ask the general fandom however, they will tell you that the first book is not that great, but you need to read it so you can get to the second book, which is the true masterpiece. For 90% of people this is their favorite book. I am not 90% of people. Book 2 retcons a lot of book 1 and gaslights you about events and I just couldn't really deal with that, I was hate reading this thing for the most part.

And yet. AND YET I finished book 2 within days and had to immediately order the next one. And same story for all the books really. Kind of a hate read, but there is something in these things (fairy crack?) that just sucks you in. Or at least it worked on me.

Is the writing good? Not terribly. Is the plot good? No. The world building? Nu-uh. Is it horribly straight and the fandom awful? You bet. And yet look at me! It's been over a year and I'm still trapped in this hole, eagerly awaiting book 6 to know if my fave will beef it and who gets to bang whom.

So, can I recommend Acotar? Not unless you want to potentially end up in the fairy hellhole with me.

[autisticlalna]

unrelatedly: a transcript of that one time viking burned vintage as my effigy

Viking: Do me a favor, stand right here. Vintage: Stand right there, okay.

[Vintage stands on top of the cobblestone generator.]

Viking: Alright Vintage, I need you to do me a favor. Vintage: Yes. Viking: Attention to the court… I need witnesses. Hold on, I need witnesses, one second. Vintage: You do need witnesses. (While you do that, I'm gonna try and fix my stuff.) I'm a sacri-- All I can think of is like, Mort, from um… whatchamacallit… From like, Madagascar. Viking: [distant] King Julien~ Vintage: [Mort voice] King Julien!

[The witnesses begin to arrive: Avid, Ruby, and Trog.]

Vintage: I just see Avid... Ruby: You're doing great, sweetie. Vintage: You're doing great, sweetie! [laughs] Avid: Hey! Vintage: Hey! Viking: Okay, Avid get down here. Uh, one second, lemme show you... Ruby: [asks Trog something but i can't hear what, oops] Vintage: Hi Avid~ Viking: I have seats for you guys, please- please take a seat. Avid: Hi! Vintage: Hi! Viking: Please take a seat. Avid: Okay. Of course. Ruby: That's okay, you can take your own seat.

[The witnesses take their seats. Viking clears his throat dramatically.]

Viking: This... is no longer vintage_applesauce. This is Leo, otherwise known as Mathonwys, alright? Ruby: [understanding] Oh. Avid: What? Viking: What is this person's name? Ruby: I know what this is about. Viking: What is this person's name? Avid: Why is that-- Ruby: Mathonwys. Avid: That's Leo? Otherwise known as-- Viking: This is Leo. Avid: Mathonwys? Vintage: I'm a figurehead, it's okay. [laughs] Viking: This is-- Okay, just say yes. This is Leo now.

[Vintage Leo nods enthusiastically.]

Ruby: Yeah. It's Leo. Viking: Al-righty! Trog: It's Leo. Avid: Ye- yes, that's Leo.

[Viking paces back and forth as he makes his statement.]

Viking: Let it be known to the court that Leo stands accused... guilty, in fact! Of claiming that this project was created by-- Avid: Oh. Viking: --AvidMC. Avid: Oh, I see what this is. Trog: Ohhh. Avid: Yeah. Viking: Let it be known to the court that after al- almost a year of development, Avid was claimed to be the one who created the server, not--! Avid: Yup. "Leo": 'Cause-- Viking: Not Viking. "Leo": [laughing] 'Cause Avid is the amazing and wonderful creator of this. Viking: By the one and only... Leo.

[Avid stands up.]

Avid: I OBJECT! Trog: [scandalized] Leo. Viking: You're not able to object, you're just watching. "Leo": You're doing great, sweetie. Avid: Oh, oh okay. "Leo": [laughing] You're doing great, sweetie! Avid: Good job Leo! "Leo": Thank you! Thank you so much, thank you! Viking: What do you wanna say. Avid: Um. Um. Viking is right, and Leo, you should be ashamed of yourse-- Is that an objection, or is that just-- Viking: That's not even an objection-- "Leo": That's not an objection. Viking: --that's just shouting out from the crowd. "Leo": That's just- that's just like, calling out. Avid: You're right! I- I rest my case.

[Avid goes back to his seat.]

"Leo": How is this going so well and so poorly at the same time? Viking: So! Do you have anything to say for yourself, Leo? [actually reading out a chat message from me, lmao] "I was working with limited information and wasn't able to post it publicly 'cause it was linked in Avid's discord." OH, REALLY? "Leo": Yeah, that stuff, yeah! [laughs] Viking: Really? Hm. Mhm. Trog: You're just pacing... Ruby: [amused] "Yeah, that stuff". Viking: Well. Do you have any last words before we sentence you? No. "Leo": Subscribe to vintage_applesauce on [cracking up] Youtube and Twitch. Viking: Okay. Avid: Let's go! Ruby: That's a- that's a good defense. Trog: Welp, you heard him! Viking: Fair enough. We heard Leo. "Leo": Thank you, thank you, thank you. Viking: We heard from an unbiased source that vintage_applesauce on Youtube and Twitch-- Ruby: Yeah. "Leo": Definitely unbiased, definitely unbiased, mhm. Viking: Good. Good- good Youtuber. So good. Alright. Vintage: (So good I haven't posted in 6 months...)

[Viking turns to address the witnesses.]

Viking: You three, as members of the jury and the witnesses. Avid: Yes. Ruby: Mhm. Viking: I feel there is only one appropriate sentence. Avid: Death? Ruby: Off with their head? Viking: Death. Avid: Wait, wait wait wait, wait Vintage! Can I have your head? Vintage: I mean, sure, I don't care. Viking: Oh, I was going to do death by lava. Vintage: [laughs] Trog: Death by lava. Avid: [disappointed] But, then we don't get her head? Vintage: [spins] Yay, I'm a sacrifice~

[Everyone starts laughing. Yes, this is the origin of that clip. Thanks Vintage. <3]

Ruby: I'm a sacrifice~ Avid: Welcome to the server! Vintage: So nice to see ya! Viking: Death- death by lava. Avid: Alright, death by lava, no head. Vintage: Woohoo! Fire! Avid: Alright, all in favor? Viking: So no head? Vintage: Congrats? Ruby: No head. Trog: No head. Avid: Vote I in favor! Ruby: [inaudible] but no head. Viking: Leo! Avid: Let it be done. Viking: It-- As- As punishment for your crimes against Skyblock Kingdoms... your effigy shall now be burned! In a pit... of lava! Say the line, Avid! Avid: Uh... Wh- B- Burn her! Burn her, baby, yeah! Viking: "Why is there lava? Why- why is there lava?" Avid: Oh. Why is there lava?!

[Viking opens the trapdoor and dunks Vintage into lava.]

Vintage: You know, I knew I was hot, but this is extreme.

[dujour13]

A Health to the Company

A little follow-up on our pwotr pals discord RP. Many many thanks to @yunessa for the idea, it was super fun and helped me out of the blues.

cw: Act IV spoilers, alcohol use, angst

For context. A spatio-temporal anomaly at the Bad Luck Tavern resulted in a paradoxical meeting of a handful of Knight-Commanders from different timelines: Siavash, Yunessa (@yunessa), Katya (@three-of-crows) , Lenarius/Leonosa (@undyingembers), Raphaël (@jean-dieu)

Theoven (@offsidekineticist), Kadira (@spyridonya), and Minovae (@silversiren1101).

They gossiped about their companions, shared their hopes and fears—although mostly their angst as this period of exile in the Abyss is a low point in their careers—and bonded (and argued) over a few—or a few too many—beers.

---

“Seelah!” It’s meant to be a whisper. “Hey Seelah, wake up.”

“Hunh? What’s happening?” The paladin sits bolt upright in her bedroll and gropes about for Radiance.

“No no no, sh, it’s just me,” Siavash laughs, stumbling into a squat next to her, even in this position somehow managing to sway on his feet. “I’m uh. I could use your help.”

“Have you been drinking?”

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah… I can see that. Smell that.”

“You won’t believe who I met at the Bad Luck. It was some kind of temp—temporal thing. They were all there. They were all different! And the same!”

“Hold on. Just—sit down, will you?”

“Thanks, yeah.” He plops down heavily.

“Despite what you might think, this is not what the Inheritor lends me her power for.”

“Yes it is.”

She rolls her eyes heavenward.

He reaches out to cling to her sleeve, eyes swimming with sincerity. “Because you have a good heart. And Iomedae says to follow your heart. And your heart says you need to hit me up with some restoration before Wol—“

Too late.

“Whatcha doin’ chief?”

“I’m fine.”

The tiefling stands over them, tail twitching. Somehow, half the camp is awake now even though Siavash swears he was quiet as a mouse when he crept back into the Nexus.

He is formulating his act of contrition as his eyes travel up but he’s suddenly distracted by how cute Woljif looks in his nightshirt and forgets what he was going to say. And then Seelah’s spell takes effect and it’s like letting all the warm bathwater drain out of his mind, leaving him heavy and shivering on the cold floor of the Nexus mine.

“I thought we were on the same sleep rotation,” says Woljif.

“We are. I just went out for a bit.” Siavash uses Seelah’s shoulder to get to his feet, giving it a squeeze of thanks as he goes to wash up. A few minutes later he’s scooting his bedroll alongside Woljif’s and when he closes his eyes the floor is blessedly stationary. Again he begins formulating his apology. “I just needed some time to think. I mean, a distraction. I do my best thinking when I don’t think.”

As usual, Woljif’s mind is already ten paces ahead. He’s figured out what happened, weighed the risks considering the recent Battlebliss incident, repressed any uncomfortable memories pertaining to alcohol and Gran, and debated whether and how to scold him. “It ain’t safe. Next time take somebody with who won’t hassle you. Take Regill, he won’t talk to you.”

“Oh, yes he will,” Siavash says with feeling.

“Or me. I can keep my trap shut.”

“I don’t mind you.” His heart aches but he can’t tell him he and his shadow are the principal reason he needed the break. Before Woljif can wonder aloud why he didn’t invite him along in the first place, Siavash brushes his cheek with his knuckles and speaks low in his ear, just under his horn. “How are you holding up? Really?”

“I thought Kenabres was bad, and then I saw the Worldwound, and I thought that was bad, and now this. I think my nightmares are gonna start havin’ nightmares.” Woljif sighs, then adds in a tender, embarrassed whisper, “But havin’ you around takes the edge off.”

“Same.” Siavash kisses his shoulder. “I won’t duck out again, I promise.” Even as the words leave his lips he winces at echoes of the same words, uttered too many times in the past, and hastily adds, “I mean it.”

Woljif’s eyes look almost green in the pale light, wide open and searching the vault of the mine far above. “S’aright. You do what you gotta do, chief. Always works out in the end. Or, usually I guess.”

“Thanks for trusting me,” he murmurs, already drifting. He closes his eyes, never noticing the inky pool of darkness that settles between them.

Woljif lies utterly still until he hears the breathing at his side ease into a low rhythm. At last he relaxes just enough to allow his tail to swish beneath the blankets. He clasps his hands on his chest as if he’s praying, or dead, and stares up into the darkness knowing he won’t be getting back to sleep tonight. Waiting and dreading… and presently, like clockwork, it begins: a velvety hiss in his right ear, making him scrunch up his shoulders:

Trust no one but yourself.

A thousand thoughts crowd in in answer: but I want to – but I love him – but he’ll live up to it this time – but I don’t want to be alone.

You’re not alone. I’m here. And I won’t hurt you like everyone else has.

What are you, anyway?

Your shadow.

With a fingernail he taps the gem in the Moon of the Abyss where it’s lodged in the dip in his collarbone. You in here?

It hesitates. I’m part of you.

And that’s how come you’re lookin’ out for me huh? Vested interest?

Correct. That’s why you can trust me: I am you.

That’s a little creepy.

Next to him, Siavash sighs through his nose and shifts. Impulsively Woljif starts to reach over just so his fingertips can steal a little warmth from his skin, but as his hand passes through the shadow it feels cold and he pulls it back and tucks it into his own armpit instead.

I am part of you, and you’ve come home to me.

The Abyss? That what you mean by home?

Home and family. Your legacy, if you have the courage to take what is yours.

Really? What’s mine? Quit talkin’ in riddles and gimme some numbers.

The mansion in the rich quarter I pointed out to you, and everything it contains, and everything it represents.

But I want—that’s not all I want.

He glances over. In the dying firelight all he sees of Siavash is the faint orange outline of his mussed hair and half-elven ear and it feels like if he reached over to touch him, it would turn out to be a mirage and his hand would pass through thin air.

Get used to disappointment. You should have, by now.

But I want—

Forget him. You’ll have to someday anyway. Might as well start now.

I don’t want to! Why can’t I have it all? How come just ‘cause I’m a tiefling I always gotta go hungry?

Oh, stop whining. Yes, you’re a tiefling! Seize the Abyss within you and use it like you use magic—shape it to your own design, dominate it, direct it against your enemies and fill yourself with its power so that you become smoke and shadow, elusive and free. Reach out with both hands! Take what is yours, by right or not!

Whoa, whoa, waxin’ a touch demonic there, ain’t we?

I am part of you. I am the Abyss.

Woljif shudders and pulls the blankets up to his chin.

Use me. That’s the only way for someone like you to take what you are owed.

Someone like me.

He grits his teeth as it starts: the prickling under his collarbone where the necklace rests, rivulets of icy blue fire streaming down his arms to his fingertips, sizzling in his hands, boiling in his guts, making his hair stand on end, making him want to jump up and let loose: power.

His thrashing must have disturbed Siavash’s slumber, because he feels an arm tossed across his hitching ribs. Its warm weight soothes the energy crawling under his skin and forces him to breathe steadily.

Woljif clings to the arm and presses it harder to his chest.

I want it to be real.

Only power is real.

I want someone to really think I’m… important.

Come to me. I’ll give you something real you can hold in your hands. Something yours and no one else’s, that you are free to use as you see fit. Then you’ll be important.

The firelight dies. He can no longer make out even a dim silhouette by his side in the darkness; it’s as if he’s alone in this lifeless, cavernous Abyssal mine and if he reaches out no one will be there but his shadow, seething around him, keeping him safe—and keeping everyone away.

Maybe the Abyss is the only home someone like him can hope for.

Even before he opens his eyes Siavash reaches out for the warm body next to him and his palm slaps on cold, flat stone instead. He’s alone, he’s still in the Abyss, and he’s hung over. A dull hammer thuds behind his eyeballs. Seelah’s restoration took care of most of the consequences of his actions, but not all—probably by the paladin’s design.

Hesitantly he opens one eye and then the other, and is grateful to find that Woljif hasn’t disappeared after all. He’s kneeling over him, carefully draping a cool cloth across his forehead. “Y’aright there, chief?”

Siavash’s eyes widen as he turns to stare at him. “I had the strangest dream.”

He can’t tell anyone. They’ll all think he’s cracked once and for all. Other Knight-Commanders from different timelines? Imaginary friends?

Why does that remind him of Regill?

[olderthannetfic]

I'm a known writer for my fandom. It's a very small fandom, so it doesn't really mean anything, but I got there early and built a nice little following.

I don't know what happened in the past few weeks, but I suddenly started getting a bunch of anon asks in my inbox demanding I express myself on the "issue" that is the current Palestinian situation. I've been ignoring them, blocking the anons, but they just kept fucking coming.

Under my last fic, I got a couple of guest comments accusing me of being antisemitic and a couple of guest comments accusing me of being an islamophobic colonizer. Under the same story!! How???

I had to disallow guest comments and anons, so now I keep receiving insults and demands that I express my opinion through sock puppet accounts. I don't know how many fucking times I've been so far labelled as a Zionist and an antisemite, and the last asks I've received got really over the top and violent, claiming that I'm the reason why Palestinian children are dying and I'm a privileged white woman (I'm not white and emigrated from a third world country, but ok) and I'm contributing to genocide.

And I'm so fucking tired of this internet activism! So, so fucking tired!

Because the reason why I engage with fandom is to take a step away from reality. I watch the fucking news, I spend my due time informing myself about global issues on the internet, I do discuss this shit with my IRL friends and colleagues and family members, I go to protests, and during the BLM protests I was out there helping with water and first aid.

But fandom is fucking me time. It's the time of my day when I unplug my brain and write whatever the fuck I want, reblog gif sets on Tumblr, and watch thirst traps on TikTok. I don't log into Tumblr, the site that cunts use to spread misinformation and fake Go Fund Me's and people who pretend to have written My Immortal to promote their shitty memoir, to receive or do any kind of information.

Stop looking for influencers and random people on the internet to explain to you global issues! Why the fuck are you people so into your own asses that you can't fucking understand the reason why some kid who got famous for dancing while wearing cat ears doesn't want to talk about their opinion about far more serious matters?

Everything has a place and a time, and some people realize that their audience goes to them to detach from reality, rather than being reminded of it.

"Oh, but if you don't talk about it, it means you're supporting the bad guys!" Sure! Because the fucking apartheid is build specifically on me not wanting to use my fandom blog to post pictures of dead children and raped women! Too bad that Nelson Mandela became an activist before the internet, uh? He could've solved a bunch of issues by posting a couple of Insta stories!

"Oh, you don't realize how privileged you are to be able to ignore the issue!" I'm not fucking ignoring it, I'm ignoring it in places where my opinion matters less than zero! And yes, I'm fully aware that I'm privileged to be able to ignore it, but you're disgusting because you're using it as a way to build a following on a blogging platform. Hope that posting pictures of slaughtered human bodies was really worth the 50 followers it got you, Allison!

I don't know if this makes sense. Whatever. I'm fucking pissed.

--

Sounds like a bunch of clowns in a discord somewhere decided to target you or something.

[sugurusdiscordmoderator]

Gamer Girly - part 2

link to part one • link to master list

cw: alcohol, bisexualness, idk me being half gay

MDNI 18+

not proof read, literally wrote this bc of my insomnia and not being able to sleep tonight

You and Geto texted to plan a FaceTime call in a few days as it worked for his schedule and you were beyond nervous. Even going as far as using your whitening strips and getting your eyebrows done. You planned it for Thursday evening, a time after Geto’s stream was over, before you, Utahime, and Haibara were about to go out to bars for Thirsty Thursday with your fake ID’s. You did your makeup and hair while listening to the squads stream rehearsing in your head what you think Geto would say. You picked out a black crop top and a short denim skirt to wear paired with your vans. As they wrapped up their stream you started feeling anxious and took a shot of a vodka mini bottle you had lying around your apartment to calm some nerves. As you swallow some orange juice as a chaser your phone buzzes from your desk.

‘hey just wrapped up, let me know when you’re free and I’ll shoot you a call. :)’

god texting him felt like you were flirting in high school all over again like a giddy innocent girl.

you set your macbook up on your desk so you could have a better view of him for the FaceTime.

‘sure, ready whenever you are!’ You respond.

Your anticipation leads to sweaty palms and sipping a white claw that was left in your fridge at some point as you pace around your bedroom, making sure everything in the background is okay.

your ringtone from your laptop goes off rather loud and you quickly sit at your desk but don’t press the answer button too soon. The 10 seconds it takes the call to load seems like years as you bounce your leg under your desk.

“hey!” You both speak at the same exact time, as you nervously giggle.

“How are you?” Comes out of both your mouths at the same time again.

“I’m sorry, you first,” you say as he chuckles with his eyes squinted close in the most precious way.

“I’m great, happy to be done streaming for the night and getting ready to go out with some friends, how about you?”

“I’m also going out with some friends for once! We don’t go to bars a whole lot but wanted to try one tonight. Other than that great now that I actually get to speak with you,” you admit, blushing.

“Yeah about that, this moderator thing is pretty easy, mainly the thing you have to watch out for on my discord is people sexualizing Shoko. She’s started to get butthurt about how she’s ‘more than a pretty face’” he rolls his eyes sarcastically.

“Oh yeah of course…” you pause, “are you guys like dating or…?” You close your eyes not believing you just fucking asked that.

“Oh no no, she’s been Satoru and I’s best friend all through high school. We taught her to play and she has pretty much gotten better than us.”

“Satoru?”

“Oh sorry yes that is Gojo’s first name, we all go by our last names on the stream.”

“Oh yeah okay, makes sense,” you glance over at the notepad sitting next to your laptop wondering if you should be taking notes.

“I have to admit there’s not really a whole lot that goes into it, I just wanted to see you over FaceTime.” He grins, lighting up a blunt and casually looking at his screen to see your reaction.

He can’t be flirting with you…right? You decide to take the ball in your court, “well what can I say, I’m only one of your most devoted fans,” winking at him and hoping you don’t seem too lame.

He chuckles, taking a long puff of his blunt and passing it to someone off the screen.

You dare to ask, “also sorry if this is too personal to ask so soon, but I saw your area code is close to where I go to college, can I ask where you’re from?”

He looks like his brain is trying to fit pieces together for a moment, looking up at the person he passed the blunt to. “Uh, yeah I’m from Shibuya and I go to university here.”

Your jaw drops, “like University of Shibuya?”

“Yeah, are you familiar with it?” He asks.

“I’m a junior here! I had no idea you guys were from around here or went to the same school!”

You hear Gojo in the back whisper “oh my fucking god”

Suguru shoots daggers at Gojo, still off screen, and doesn’t know what to say.

“We don’t have to meet up or anything if you’re uncomfortable with it! We can just pretend like we didn’t talk about this,” you blush nervously thinking he was put off by something you said.

“No, no, I mean it would be great either way. Just was a little surprising that’s all.” He responds, no longer looking around for Gojo, just focusing on you on his screen.

“Yeah well I’ll promote you to a moderator tonight and have the other mod text you to kinda explain the situation.” The dark haired mystery man smiles awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “Oh and the pay, uh how does $20 per hour sound?”

“Yeah sure whatever you’re willing to pay I’ll take it!” you say almost too eagerly. You knew mods got paid kind of well but you didn’t know it was this good. If he streams 7 days a week for 2 hours, that’s already $280 a week. Plus the time you spend in discord on the chats.

“Okay well I’ll be in touch…” he trails off and you can’t tell if he’s either high or just uninterested in your conversation. (In reality Gojo had a girl sitting on his lap sucking his face off and Suguru was trying to decide if he was disgusted or turned on)

“Yeah, thank you for picking me! Look forward to talking with you,” you say hoping he’s not regretting his choices noting that he got a little awkward after the talk about being local arose.

“Yeah, see ya,” he says too casually with hardly a hint of a smile on his face. You click the ‘end call’ button and sigh. It seems like this unobtainable crush you had on suguru for the past 9 months was still just that. Why had you never seen him around town or campus? Granted, it was a really big school and everything but never once had you seen him, by god you would remember that face.

You snap out of your trance back to your white claw and scroll to find your texts with Utahime while you down the can

‘your place in 10?’ you text her.

‘Yes, sorry kinda last minute but some of haibara and i’s other friends are going to come too’ she texts back and you groan, not in the mood to meet new people.

The thought of having to be social enough to go to the bar was anxiety inducing, but now having to actually meet people before you’re drunk? You grab two more of the mini bottles of vodka you have in your freezer downing one and shoving the other in your pocket for when you get to Utahime’s apartment.

You walk into her unlocked flat without knocking, being too in your head from the FaceTime call and what it meant. Utahime is sitting on the counter, Haibara between her legs as they are making out passionately. Her arms wrapped around his neck, legs spread in her skirt so Haibara (and you) can see her turquoise panties.

“Oh I’m sorry,” you giggle staring at the scene in front of you. “I thought you were expecting me.”

Utahime, obviously embarrassed jumps down from the counter acting like nothing happened and walks over to give you a hug. Wearing a blue skirt, white shirt, and red bow in her hair she looks as cutely innocent as ever. You looked about as opposite as her as possible with your ripped denim skirt, black crop top revealing your cleavage just perfectly, and black and white checkered vans.

“How did the call go?” She asks as Haibara excuses himself to the bathroom trying, but failing, to hide his boner from their make out session.

“Great but I have news about like the four of them -“ you’re cut off by a knock at the apartment door.

In walks a girl with white hair, a black button up black mini skirt, with knee high socks. She was accompanied by two average looking men, obviously whipped by her aura.

“Mei Mei!” Utahime runs over to her and gives her a hug. You’re a little taken aback by the warm welcome this new girl received versus your very awkward one. Well I guess that’s what you get for not knocking.

Haibara comes out of the bathroom looking like he just splashed cold water on his face and neck, “Bayer, Kokun, good to see you.” Walking up to them to dab them up.

You take this opportunity to down the mini bottle in your pocket and take a sip of Utahime’s sprite she left sitting on the counter. Sheeeeesh, three mini bottles and a white claw in before you even leave for the bar? You’re feeling pretty good and confident. Walking in on the couple’s make out session made you realize how long it had been since you got any action. Besides your vibrator working over time, usually after Geto’s streams.

You force yourself out of your thoughts and walk up to the trio chit chatting with the couple and introduce yourself. “Hey I’m y/n” and extend your hand to shake.

“Nice to meet you, y/n, Utahime has told me a lot about you.” Mei Mei says in her naturally sultry voice. Your eyes nervously look at Utahime, consider she had never mentioned this attractive white haired woman to you before.

“We’re new friends, she just moved in down the hallway and these two guys helped her move in.” Utahime says reading your mind.

“Ah nice to meet you, I’m just a few floors up if you ever need anything.” You respond.

“All we’re missing is Yuki right?” Mei Mei asks as she directs her attention to Utahime.

“Yeah but who knows if she’ll show up. I’ll text her to just meet us at the bar.”

-

With that, the group heads out to go to one of the dive bars in the city, a little place with karaoke on Thursdays. Supposedly Mei Mei knows the bouncer quite well, walking up first in the crowd to whisper something in his ear, finger trailing down his chest. You’re not sure what she said to him, only that his cheeks turned red and he let the 5 of you in without checking your IDs at all. From what you heard this place didn’t let fakes in very easily so you wonder what could have bribed that man. You grab a high top table in the back near the pool tables with Utahime and Mei Mei as the 3 boys go to grab you drinks.

“Can we sing a girls song together?” You propose to the two.

“Y/n are you drunk already? You’d never suggest that sober.” Utahime raises her eyebrows at you.

“How about the spice girls?” You ask ignoring her question. Mei Mei nods with a slight smirk. As you go up to put your name on a slip of paper the boys come back with the drinks. The DJ winks at you and you immediately regret your decision.

A few songs later and it seems your drink is gone, listening to the boys talk about sports and video games, as the two girls chat about their one annoying neighbor on their floor that has the loudest sex imaginable.

You walk up to the bar and stand patiently next to a tall beautiful blonde woman.. you try not to stare as the bartender comes over to her and asks her order. “I’ll take a whiskey and ginger ale, and whatever this girl is having.” She smirks pointing her thumb over to you. “Vodka cran please,” you squeak out to the bartender, nervously smiling at her.

The man goes to make the drinks as she sticks out her hand, “Hi pretty, I’m Yuki.”

“Oh you’re Yuki! Friends with Mei Mei and Utahime?” You stumble out the words remembering her name from earlier.

“Sorry, I’m y/n. I’m here with them tonight, I can take you to them if you’d like?”

Yuki leaves her card with the bartender and hands you your drink. “After you,” she smiles taking the first sip of her drink looking you up and down smugly. You grab her free hand with her vape in it and weave from the bar back to the table you all had claimed.

“I found someone you guys may know?” You shyly interject trying to be funny. The whole group erupts into various versions of “Yuki! Oh my god so good to see you!” She props herself up on the last open barstool at the table. Baggy red cargo pants and a black crop top, no bra with nipple piercings pretty obvious. She catches you staring and nods her head in a “come here” kind of way.

“So what’s your type?” She asks.

“Uh what?” You question back.

“What’s your type of woman?…or man I guess.” She eyes you up and down as if trying to determine your sexuality.

“Uh… I like long hair? And someone who can have a good time?” You’ve never had to answer that question on the spot so you think your answer was decent enough.

She lets out a chuckle and takes another sip of her drink. “So you’re not playing for a single side I’m hearing.” She smirks and puts her arm around your shoulder.

“Yeah I guess not” you smile back realizing how close your faces are.

Just then the DJ announces the next karaoke names, “y/n, Utahime and Mei Mei are going to sing us Wannabe by the Spice Girls!”

“y/nnnn” a tipsy Utahime grabs your hand and starts rushing you three to the stage. One thing you forgot about this place is you have to take a shot before singing. You three take your shots of what tastes like battery acid, stinging going down and trying not to think about it as the music starts.

The 90s classic song gets ever girl in the bar singing and dancing at the edge of the stage and you see Haibara behind the crowd video taping your performance.

Your words are starting to slur slightly and you are just having a great time feeling like a pop star. You swear up in the balcony of the bar you see a white head of hair jamming out and screaming the words but hey everyone’s having a good time!

The song comes to a close and the three of you get escorted off stage. You split from the two and say “I’m going to step outside to smoke for a second,” as you do when you drink.

You walk up to the back door of the bar and as you go to push, you feel someone else pull. With the alcohol in your system, your reaction time is a little delayed. Before you know it you are falling forward towards the gravel with your arms out.

“Oh Jesus Christ” you mumble out assessing the damage while you sit up so you are on your knees. Only a few scrapes as the person on the other side of the door comes up to you and puts a hand on your back.

“Oh my god are you okay I’m sorry,” you hear a familiar voice. Too familiar.

You turn around to meet amber eyes inches from your face.

“Geto?” Your jaw drops.

—

A/N I had to go through my archives to see what someone would wear to a bar in 2018 😭 and look up a discord mods hourly pay on google 😭 also had a bi panic moment w Yuki and Utahime and MeiMei as usual if you can’t tell

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 43

Joyous Walpurgisnacht: Part I

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: Here we go!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

As you stand from the table, your name draws your attention from your plate. Mr. Laufeyson mirrors you as he peers over at his mother. You notices how his fingers twiddle by his side. 

“You’ll come get ready with us, dear,” Frigga says, “Trina is coming to do our hair an makeup. Be sure to grab your dress.”

“Oh, uh…” you look at Laufeyson and he shrugs with one shoulder. “Okay.”

“Don’t worry about my brother,” Hela snorts, “I’m certain he’ll be torturing himself over the proper shade of white; shall I go for the ivory or the pearl?”

“Quiet,” Laufeyson sneers under his breath before he turns to you, “go on then,” he looks at his watch, “we all have much to do.”

He strides past you and you watch after him. He’s still upset. It’s your fault. You’ve been errant in your duties. You will make it up to him. At Walpurgisnacht, you won’t dare leave his side.

“Come,” Frigga beckons to you, “Hel, you too.”

“Yes, mother,” she drones and rounds the table.

You follow them to the door, only noticing as you approach that Thor’s done the same. He keeps a step back as he waves within, “after you, lady.”

“Er, thanks,” you eke out and step in ahead of him.

He’s quick to tail you, his fingers sending a shiver through you as he touches the back of your arm, “happy birthday, little one. How old are you now?” He asks.

You wince and hug yourself, keeping your chin down as he matches your pace. Frigga reaches to flick a strand of Hela’s black hair as she gabs on about it. You chew your lip and crane to look over your shoulder. You don’t see Odin, he must’ve stuck behind to chat with the staff.

“Thirty-two,” you answer as you face straight.

“Mmm, not too old,” his hand brushes across your back, “you look much younger.”

“Thank you, uh,” you stutter as his touch ventures further, tickling the top of your ass. Your panic swells and you bat him away, “I… have to go.”

You don’t know how to make him stop, but you can control yourself. You rush ahead to catch up to Frigga. As you come up at her side, Thor’s low rocky chuckle rolls through the air. You don’t look back as your blood runs cold. You don’t know why he won’t leave you alone.

“Ah, dear, I think we could put some flowers in your hair,” Frigga remarks as she waves you ahead of her up the stairs, “to go with that pretty dress of yours.”

“Sure,” you agree.

“She’ll look like a bride,” Hela scoffs, “perhaps just some diamonds around her neck–”

“Pearls,” Frigga argues.

“Pearls? She’s not an old lady yet,”

“Eh? Pearls are nice,” Frigga counters.

“Perhaps for you,” Hela rebuffs, “babe,” Hela swoops around her mother and drapes her arm over your shoulders as you turn down the hall, “what do you prefer?”

You blink, finding it hard to breathe through the tension. You don’t dare pick a side.

“I like the dress on its own,” you say.

“Ah, yes, she’s right, it is so nice, it would be ruined with too much,” Frigga hums, “how about just the petals,” she reaches to touch your hair, “a small accent but not garish.”

“Mm, yes, like a little fairy,” Hela muses as she retracts her arm, “I’m afraid I’m going for more of a witchy vibe.”

“Oh dear,” Frigga mutters, “Hel.”

“A good witch, mother, never fear.”

✨

You look in the mirror, swept away by your own reflection. The small white flowers in your hair are placed so delicately and just so, matching with those on the dress in their fluttery display. You skin seems to glow from the precise application of makeup, your lashes are long and curved but not too heavy. Your lips are painted a natural hue with a glossy finish and a touch of blush lends colour to your cheeks. It feels like a lot but looks like less.

The dress is just as wonderful as you remember. The outer layer decorated in carefully cut flowers over the simple dress of white beneath. The skirt flows to your lower calves, ending just above the straps of your heels, a bow on the back of each. You blink and tilt your head at your reflection, is it really you looking back?

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Hela growls as she steps up behind you, “uh, so darling.”

“You look amazing, dear,” Frigga calls over.

You turn to watch the older woman pin on large dangling earrings. She wears a white dress hemmed below her knees with large fanned bell sleeves. Her necklace is strung with pearls that get large towards the centre and her silver and gold hair is spun into loose waves pushed back behind an elaborate headband with golden points.

Hela is dressed much less elegantly. Her jumpsuit is taut to her figure, the neckline cute so deep you wonder how it stays up. She wears a sort of cowl, sparkling with diamond as it goes from chin to shoulders, a larger gem dangling down her cleavage.

“Well, I think we’re almost there,” Frigga announces breezily, “come, come.”

She ushers you and Hela from the room into the hall. The house is buzzing with activity. As you come downstairs, you’re lost amid the flurry. The kitchen is bustling with furor and workers flit around like bees in a hive. You stay close to the other women as they walk unfettered through the rush.

You come out to the veranda, clutching the sides of your skirt as you watch your feet, careful not to trip on your heels. In the sunlight, Frigga sighs, and calls to someone. You look up and follow her down the steps. 

The lush green flat of the yard is entirely changed. A white floral arch, white cloth draping over the roofs of newly erected tents, tables in similarly silky ivory, petals scattered all around as stems are capped with full blooms atop posts, in plinthed vases, and around tables. A stage stands, blocking out much of the garden, a bar along an edge of the expanse with several workers behind it arranging glasses and bottles.

“Yvonne,” Frigga trills again, “come, come, we should like some photos.”

A woman in a white suit approaches with a large camera in hand. She is tall with full hips emphasized by the cut of her clothing. Her strawberry blond hair is twisted into a high bun with two pin straight pieces framing her face.

“Hello, Von,” Hela purrs at her familiarly. The women glance at each other and an eyebrow twitches. They know each other. Everyone does but you.

“This is our photographer,” Frigga introduces you to Yvonne, “she’ll be taking pictures so don’t mind if you see a flash or two through the night.” She turns back to the strawberry blonde, “hm, where are the men? They must be here…”

You fold your hands and sway back and forth. Surely you won’t be included. This is for the family. You’ll just stand to the side.

“Ah, Odin!” Frigga throws her hands up, greeting her husband as he approaches in a white pressed shirt beneath a matching stiff vest and white slacks. He wears a golden chain around his collar and cufflinks at his wrists. His shoes also bear golden buckles. “There you are. Where are your sons?”

“So quick to disown them,” Odin kids, “they were…” he looks back.

Thor clamours down from the veranda, combing out his long blond hair which he’s let loose from its usual bun. The waves fall to his shoulders, just along his open collar, unbuttoned to boast the thick muscles of his chest. He beams in white just like everyone else. A gold medallion hangs from his neck and his fingers are stacked with rings.

Loki follows last, shoulders high, hands staunchly tucked into his pockets. He looks at the sky as he appears in his simple attire. White shirt, white tie, white slacks cute perfectly to his sleek figure. White loafers with plain silver buckles. His black hair is swept back, the front pieces drawn back into a clip behind his head as the tails curl out behind his ears.

As he takes the same path as his father and brother, his eyes search and find you. His irises flicker and his brows arch. You avert your gaze and look at the grass, fidgeting as you wait awkwardly to the side. Frigga preens at each son and tells them how handsome they look.

“Alright, alright, we’ll get a few photos before the guests arrive,” she claps her hands.

There’s movement along the edge of your vision. You keep your head down as Frigga orders her family around. You flinch as she grabs your wrist suddenly and pulls your hands apart.

“Right here, dear,” she guides you next to Odin before she stands at his other side. “Okay, everyone, no scowling.”

You look up, wide eyed and the camera flashes. You bat your lashes and put on a smile as Odin bends his arm behind you, resting his hand on your lower back. The gesture calms you as the photographer counts down.

You stand frozen as the camera shutters, wondering why you’re there. What will they do with the photos when you are irrelevant? Finally, you’re allowed to disperse as Frigga struts over to Yvonne to have a look at the photos.

You turn nearly collide with Mr. Laufeyson before you can even think to look for him. You back up as he stares at you. He raises a hand as if to touch your arm then thinks better of it. He clear his throat and tugs on his skinny tie.

“That is a beautiful dress,” he remarks, “very on theme.”

“Thank you, Mr. Laufeyson,” you sniff and rub your palms together.

“Stay close,” he says tersely, clearing his throat, “or…” you hear his tone soften, “I might lose you in the flowers.”

His lips curve, just a little. Is he joking? You’re not sure.

“Come,” he jabs his fingers through the air, “let us get a drink before it is too busy.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

You walk beside him and he sighs. No, you’re not sure he was being funny. He’s still unhappy.

As you reach the bar, he greets the workers in white behind it. He orders whiskey on ice, then turns to you. For a moment, you’re taken back to the night you found him with the same drink… that was the first, maybe the only time, you saw him so human.

“What would you like?” He asks.

“Um, I don’t… know,” you murmur.

“Our cocktails,” a worker points to the standing list of drinks. You lean in and read each. 

“Oh, uh, could I get the lavender lemonade, please?”

“Yes, miss,” the worker replies and sets to mixing the drink. Laufeyson takes his and holds it tight.

“Lokiiiii,” a familiar brogue rumbles through the air.

You turn to face Bragi as he approaches. A pocket watch swings from his vest, though he wears no shirt beneath it. You greet him with a tight-lipped smile.

“And his lady,” he smirks at you, “you haven’t seen Fossegrim, have you?”

“You brought that creature?”

“Ah, he tagged along. He chased off a chickadee and I’ve not seen him since. Never to worry,” he snaps his fingers, "I'm all set up.” He nods towards the stage, “and look at you too, pretty in white.” He looks at you pointedly, “I must say, you look like a goddess. I was also let in on a secret,” he declares, “it is your birthday. Happy birthday, did you have a favourite song? I might fit it into my set.”

“Um…” you think. “I don’t…” you look over as Mr. Laufeyson reaches back to take another glass from the bar and offers you the purple drink. You take it with a meek nod before facing Bragi again, “there was this song… from a movie… Breakfast at Tiffany’s. She sings it on the balcony but I can’t remember how it goes.”

“Oh, yes, I know the one. Beloved Hepburn, what a treat she was,” he purrs, “I think I can figure out the chords.”

“You don’t have to…” you shrug.

“I want to,” he insists, “oh and watch for dark shadows, Fossegrim will surely return once he smells food.”

“Sure,” you agree and squeeze the glass tight. Laufeyson just hums in his throat.

“Anyhow, I need water,” he sidles past you, “happy Walpurgisnacht!”

You return the sentiment before you step away. You peer around, uncertain what to do next. Your heels sink into the grass and you pull them out, teetering. Laufeyson glances over at you.

“Shall we sit?” He asks.

“Erm, okay.”

He waves you ahead of him and you weave over to one of the tables. You sit and put your glass down without tasting it. He sips his own as he lowers himself. He’s tense, setting it down with a heavy clunk.

You look around and see new faces arriving. It’s beginning. Your stomach churns as each guest appears. It really is a big deal.

“You are nervous,” Laufeyson intones, bringing you back to the table.

“A little.”

“Mm,” he pokes his tongue in his cheek, “well, then, even more reason to stay by my side. I’ve navigated these waters all my life, I can stave off the sharks.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

His lips slant and he spreads his hand over his chest before dragging it down, “and…” his throat bobs, “happy birthday, if I forgot to say.”

“Um, thank you,” you squeak, “it isn’t a very big deal.”

He inhales, “it isn’t? By your choice or… his?”

You shrug, “I never made it one. Really, just another year.”

“Certainly, time does keep on now matter what,” he mulls.

You’re quiet. You take the drink and look at it. It’s a lovely colour. You take a sip; it’s tangy but nice, a little kick under the citrus notes. Your cheeks pinch as you put it back down.

“Too strong?” he asks.

“No, it’s good,” you assure him, careful not to drip any on your dress.

He taps his fingers on the tabletop, “I must say, you do look rather… rather nice.”

“Oh, yes, um, Trina, your mother’s friend…” you utter, “she did it.”

You look at him, finding his eyes rapt upon you. His gaze almost takes your breath away. He reaches to touch your hand, leaning in just a little. His eyes flick past you suddenly and he stops, his hand lightly over your as he sits frozen.

You turn to peek over your shoulder. You hear Thor’s thundering voice as he greets someone. A perfect swoop of dark hair bounces before him and he embraces the tall, slender woman. You know, even without seeing her face, who it is. Sif.

You bring your other hand over Laufeyson’s and press it down firmly as you face him, “are you alright?”

His eyes skitter back to you and he slips his hand free. You deflate as he instead takes his glass and slurps with a scowl. Walpurgisnacht will not be a new beginning, only a reminder of old wounds.

[lividria]

Funny Story: The Thousand-Year Door (Part 2)

Yea, remember the time I made a post about how everyone associates me with this game's Vivian because that's also my name, I'm also trans and my OC persona character looks similar? I have now beaten TTYD and I already wasn't opposed because I liked the character but I used Vivian for literally as much time as possible once I got her so uh

Here's some of the highlights of my playthrough, spoilers obviously

In the chapter 8 Shadow Sirens rematch (I know they're the Three Shadows now but I'm used to the old name, fight me), I had Goombella out to get tattles, tried to switch over to Vivian, and the FUCKING GAME CRASHED? Which I interpreted as Beldam getting so pissed it broke the space-time continuum, thankfully I saved right before and Vivian later dealt the final blow to Beldam to win the fight when I tried again

Shadow Queen kicked my FUCKING ASS HOLY SHIT, it took me 3 tries, I feel like if I were to rematch Prince Mush they would be so much easier than SQ it wouldn't even be funny AND THEY'RE A SUPERBOSS, I WIPED THE FLOOR WITH JUST ABOUT EVERY PRE-CHAPTER 8 BOSS BUT THEN THE FINAL BOSS WRECKED MY ASS LIKE SHE WAS TACO BELL

One of my friends hyped up Bonetail as being even harder when I immediately went to do the Pit after the credits, I JUST beat them without using any items (Though I did eat a couple in the earlier levels of the Pit) and it was so much less intense than what I expected, especially because I got really lucky with bingos and Pretty Lucky (badge) so I was never in any danger

Yes I know about Whacka, yes I know what I have to do to fight them, yes I'm gonna try them, but that's for tomorrow

I was actually trying to get 100% tattles this playthrough but only realized far too late I didn't get the tattles for the scripted Shwwonk Fortress encounters (Not the Golden Fuzzy, though, I got them & their Fuzzy horde) and I don't know if those guys respawn or are anywhere else so uh fucking whoops

I laughed my ass off when the Atomic Boo had it's own battle theme, that was the most unnecessary thing ever

Chapter 3 made me absolutely lose my shit because all I did was do all the Trouble Center side quests before that and I was somehow hilariously overpowered (I actually got a Power Plus from was their name Dazzle or Sparkle? So that's probably why) I destroyed everything and everyone, I knew about the poisoned cake but I didn't know leaving it killed that poor Koopa, I was completely floored by Bowser not having his boss theme (It's used in the Chapter 8 fight don't worry), and laughed for like a half hour straight at Grubba actually just dying at the end of the chapter after confessing to murder, can you actually find him anywhere after that because I never saw him ever again and Jolene said he was out of the picture so I choose to interpret that as Mario just straight up killing the guy

I fucking hate Rawk Hawk, I rematched him a couple times, all of them unintentionally besides for one time I was like 2 points off a level up, he goes down so fast it's so cathartic, I got an e-mail at some point from him that looked like he was saying he's a better fighter now, I'm gonna go beat his ass right now to prove he ain't

I somehow got Vivian into that bucket in the hidden part of Rogueport Harbor, she teleported out before I could screenshot it, I open Tumblr and first thing I see is that one post that's art of bucket Vivian, reality is taunting me I swear

For the several years on Discord I've always made it a thing to exaggerate some personality traits whenever it'd lead to funny jokes, so I have this entire gag persona I'll put on sometimes where I'll act like a narcissistic asshole out of nowhere (which is pretty easy because I'm incredibly easy to anger and thus act like a jerk more than I should), and it's some of the same people I do that with that compare me to TTYD Vivian sometimes, so imagine my reaction when I see the dialogue implying Vivian has a crush on Mario when I always switch out the player character with myself in my head, Vivian has a crush on essentially herself

I never used Zess T. once throughout my entire playthrough so imagine my horror when I check the requirements for 100%ing the game and seeing the recipes are there in the Journal menu, yea fuck no lol, I don't even know if I'll get all the Star Pieces & Shine Sprites but I am definitely not catching up

So uh yeah really good game